A Thousand Sides of a Man and His Crew
by CDSE
Summary: Everyone has different sides to their personality, attitude, and demeanor. Some have more than others. Jim is one of those people. This is a collection of stories about the unexplored, never experienced sides of one Captain James Tiberius Kirk; along with the adventures, mishaps, and crew members that lead up to them.
1. Side 1: Badass Jim (Part 1)

**A/N: Hi! All parts exist in the same universe, but not all are in chronological order! They will say (Part _/_) when a certain chapter is a part of a longer group of chapters, that will make up one story in this collection of multiple stories about one Captain James Tiberius Kirk and his crew of the USS Enterprise.**

 **On that note, I actually don't know how long this first little group of chapters will be... ;.;**

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"Jim... Damn it Jim, wake up you idiot!" Doctor Leonard 'Bones' McCoy called as the pair's captors' footsteps closed in from the other side of the prison cell. McCoy was hoping that all the drugs that their captor's had injected into the captain to keep him down, hadn't permanently knocked him into a coma. After a bit more prodding and thankful slowness on the captors' part, Captain James T. Kirk's limp body stirred. Suddenly, his bright blue eyes snapped open.

Wildly looking around, Jim struggled to move from his current position of lying down on the cold metal floor.

"Jim! Damn it, get ahold of yourself, kid!" McCoy practically yelled in a not so very quiet whisper. A few quick moments passed, not even seconds, before comprehension flickered into those blue eyes.

"Bones...?" Jim whispered, voice raspy and cracked with disuse.

"Yeah, kid, it's me," McCoy answered soothingly, then he pressed on. "Listen, Jim, get ahold of yourself. These bastards took the rest of the crew somewhere else. We're the the only ones left in this damn cell. Everyone else was taken by these bastards. We need to find a way out and get to everyone else."

"The crew...?" Jim echoed, mind not yet fully lucid after being knocked unconscious by the enemy.

"Yeah, the crew. Ya know, that green-blooded hobgoblin and your fencing ninja Sulu?" McCoy impatiently answered. "Damn it, Jim! We don't got time for this shit!"

Suddenly the metal door to the prison cell slammed open. Both men flinched and visibly recoiled as the captors stepped in, blocking off the only source of light. Mentally cursing, McCoy looked around desperately, hoping for something, anything to ward off the enemy. Fleetingly, he remembered that he had done this exact same thing when the captors came in to haul away a live and kicking Sulu. And the exact same results were yielded. Nothing. Not a single damn thing to use. Jim, bless the idiot, caught on quickly and had stopped moving to mimic a still unconscious state.

"Well, well, well. A good time to be awake isn't it, Doctor?" The captor, someone who McCoy presumed was the leader, spoke. "This time we're here for you."

Shuddering at the thought and the cold, unsympathetic voice, McCoy answered. "What have you done with Sulu and Spock?"

"Oh, them? You mean the useless ones who refused to say anything? The ones that we tortured?" The lead captor smiled. "They're dead."

Eyes widening with shock, McCoy had no words. He was frozen with horror. The mere idea of Sulu and Spock being dead was horrifying. No, it was downright terrifying, as both were resilient and loyal. In his shock, he failed to see or hear Jim somehow slip out of his shackles and leap at the enemy.

"You bastards!" Jim roared. He landed on top of the leader, smashing in the alien's bald head into the ground, shattering the skull. Within seconds he had ripped the leader's gun from the holster and fired it at the guards. One by one, they dropped like flies, each in quick succession. All dead on the floor. In the next instant, Jim quickly stood from kneeling over the dead body of the leader, found the keys and unlocked the cuffs on McCoy's wrist. Jim froze for a brief moment, gently holding and examining the wrist of the doctor that was rubbed raw and scabbed over in parts where he had bled. The space between Jim's brows crinkled in worry and anger. "I'm sorry, Bones. This should've never happened," He whispered. "Let's go, I won't let them hurt you or anyone else ever again."

McCoy, still dazed, came to full awareness as he felt Jim's hand in his, pulling the doctor along. Jim was careful, mindful of the scabs and tender skin of McCoy's wrists. McCoy snapped out of his daze and came to focus on his surroundings. The sounds of groaning and shaking metal proved that the ship they had been kidnapped with was old. Bronze walls with rust building on it had small chunks falling off every now and then. Then, McCoy came to notice something very strange indeed. The ship was shaking badly, almost as if it was just barely holding itself together at the seams. No scratch that, the ship was practically collapsing on itself. Shit. A million times, shit.

"Jim, we have to get out of here!" McCoy yelled. "We'll die at this rate!"

"I know that, damn it! I know! Fuckers said they killed my crew, Bones! My crew! I have to make sure. Either they're alive and counting on us to save them, or like those fuckers said... Sulu and Spock could be... They could be dead," Jim ended quietly, stopping in the middle of the corridor. Suddenly, a massive jerk of the ship knocked both men to the floor. Both cursed openly, Jim having pulled McCoy down underneath his body, protecting the doctor from falling debris. Their hands remained linked. As soon as the ship's shuddering had slowed to a manageable rate, both men staggered from the ground forward. The ship almost seemed to fall silent for a brief moment. The only sound was from the heavy breathing of both Jim and McCoy.

"Captain!" A cry came from the right. Jim's eyes widened as he recognized that voice. The pair turned towards the right path down to a different corridor. In an instant, both men had begun to sprint down the right hallway, "Captain!" The cry resounded again. Skidding to a halt just as a crash shook the ship, Jim and McCoy reached a fork in the hallway. The second cry came from the right again, so they continued to sprint towards their right, Jim leading.

Arriving at the end of the hall and smashing open a metal door, the pair came upon one, Hikaru Sulu. Strapped to a metal table with multiple lacerations that were obviously inflicted as torture, the pilot, pale with blood loss, smiled warily. "Captain... Thank god..."

"SULU!" Both Jim and McCoy cried out. McCoy, in full Chief Medical Officer mode, was analyzing Sulu's injuries with a critical eye. Jim went about quickly removing the straps holding his pilot of his ship, down. With a small cry of pain, Sulu was off the table and leaning heavily, with one arm looped over Jim and McCoy's respective shoulders. Another crash swept the ship away and a part of the ceiling came screaming down, landing near the three men and blocking the previously smashed open door.

"Shit," Jim cursed, then turned towards the other exit. Footsteps echoed off the corridor and into the room. "Double shit, Bones! Take Sulu and go through the rubble. I'll buy as much time as I can!"

"Jim! We're not leaving you here!"

"That's right, Captain! If anything, I should be the one holding them off, not you!"

"That's an order, Sulu, Bones."

"An order, my ass. Screw protocol, the order be damned. Jim, we're not leaving you! Ever! Never now, never later! You're the captain, Jim! And you're my best friend!" McCoy roared. Then he unslung Sulu's arm from around his shoulder and threw the injured pilot at Jim.

"Wha-"

"Shut it. Get through that damn pile of rubble, I got this."

"Wait, Bones! You can't just-"

"I can and I will! Now go!" With one final hefty push towards the direction of the other door, McCoy stepped between the opposite doors. effectively becoming a living obstacle that the captors would have to go through. Quickly, McCoy scanned the room. With a smile, he dashed forward and snagged a can of oxygen from a nearby wall. He checked the gauge. Full. Perfect. Thankfully, this seemed to be some sort of medical facility doubling as a torture room, and with this ship being so old, the medical supplies must be old too. Which meant rubbing alcohol and some cotton balls with bandages. McCoy spotted the stuff he needed in another corner and jumped forward.

A guard suddenly came crashing through the other door and swung the gun in hand, around the room. The guard saw McCoy and fired almost instantly. The sound rang through the air. Jim and Sulu, who had both made it out safely froze, momentarily horrified. There was a scream. McCoy's scream.


	2. Side 1: Badass Jim (Part 2)

**A/N: Some of this stuff may not actually be possible to do... i.e. the oxygen tank thingy. (if you've read this before, you would know what I mean. If this is your first time reading, then you'll just have to find out!)**

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McCoy screamed, and clutched his bleeding leg. His body thudded against a nearby shelf of torture and medical equipment. A bottle of rubbing alcohol rattled in its container and then toppled out, rolling off the edge of the shelf. It shattered onto the floor, seeping along the metal. Bandages and cotton balls followed soon after, landing in the flammable liquid, soaking it up. The same guard that had shot McCoy stepped forward, gun still trained on McCoy. It spoke vulgar guttural sounds in an alien language that McCoy wouldn't have even bothered trying to understand, as if threatening the bleeding doctor on the floor. McCoy cursed under his breath, shuffling awkwardly backwards while attempting to stem the bleeding in his leg. The guard grunted and stepped forward once more, not noticing as its foot landed in the rapidly expanding puddle of rubbing alcohol. The rest of the guards filed in, guns pointed at McCoy.

Suddenly, another crash ripped the ship sideways, tossing the guards off balance. McCoy, seeing his chance, grabbed the dropped oxygen tank and quickly opened the valve before tossing it at one of the guards, knocking it in the back. Then he dragged his body as far away as he could from the alcohol and roamed the room with his eyes. Within moments, McCoy had found what he was looking for; an exposed electrical panel was lying in plain sight, near where McCoy had been shot. With one yank, a wire was pulled off. McCoy ripped off the cuff of his sleeve and held it against the frayed end of the wire, hoping, praying to whatever omnipotent being that was currently watching over him, that the cloth would catch. It did. Lady Luck was watching over him today.

Taking the small burning cloth, McCoy tied it around a small piece of rubble about as wide as his thumb. The ship's shaking slowed down. The guards immediately scrambled back up from the floor, scowling with anger. McCoy threw the burning cloth. It sailed through the air, and miraculously landed in the alcohol. Lady Luck had truly blessed him today. The alcohol instantly caught the burning flame, spreading it around like wildfire. The guards that had fallen into the liquid screamed as the flames licked onto them, consuming their bodies. The heat quickly grew in intensity and with one last look, McCoy managed to drag himself past the rubble blocking the door he had come through, his leg bleeding profusely.

As soon as he stumbled through the door, familiar hands wrapped around his waist and pulled him up. Jim had grabbed one of McCoy's arms and was half-dragging, half-carrying both Sulu and McCoy away from the torture room.

"Jim, Sulu, we have to run. We gotta get outta here!"

"Bones! Don't you think I know that already?" Jim exclaimed, before turning towards the pilot next to him. "Sulu, help a man out here!"

"Sorry, Captain. Still kinda bleeding here," The pilot answered. His makeshift bandages comprised of both Jim and Sulu's uniforms was starting to come undone.

"Damn it! I just finished doing that!"

"Not a very good job, sir."

"...Sulu?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"...Aye, sir."

"Would you two idiots do this later?!" McCoy yelled from his position of being half-dragged by Jim. "That room's about to blow!"

"What?!" Sulu and Jim chorused.

"Go!" McCoy growled back. He then pressed onwards, desperately clutching his bleeding leg, now being the one to half-drag Jim away from the room. Jim had no other choice but to follow McCoy.

A few moments later, when the two men had made it a good ways away from the torture room, albeit not very far at all, actually the next hallway over, the ship shook with an intensity not recognizable as anything similar to the previous shakes. It was an explosion. The heat and exhaust released from the explosion washed over the two like a thick blanket in summer. The blast had knocked both of them to the floor.

"Shit, Bones, what the hell was that?!" Jim yelled over the ringing in all their ears.

"The reason I said to get a move on, asshat! I blew up the god damn room alright!"

"Bones!" Jim gasped, aghast, staring at McCoy. "The fuck?"

"Shut it, asshole," McCoy replied, wincing as he struggled to stand, body protesting with every movement.

A groan suddenly echoed in the hallway and both Jim and McCoy froze. McCoy was the first to react, and looked around hurriedly, realizing with a sense of dread that in his haste to grab Jim and scram, he had forgotten about Sulu. Jim realized in the same instant that he was missing his pilot. Both recognized that Sulu most likely had just been hurt again, badly, and neither had bothered to assist or at least keep tabs on Sulu.

"Fuck." Was all they said as the two scrambled to stand up. McCoy groaned himself as his injured leg protested; Jim hissing as his head, which felt like it had a thousand hammers hammering away inside, throbbed painfully. The drugs didn't help with that fact either.

McCoy staggered, leaning heavily against the bronze wall. Jim stood, wavering slightly while clutching his head. Both searched their surrounding area, searching for the fallen Hikaru Sulu. As he scanned the area, Jim instantly took notice of a rather large pile of rubble. More shit. All the shits in the world.

"Bones, I think Sulu's under there," Jim said, pointing wearily at the rather noticeably large pile of rubble.

McCoy took one look at the rubble and dropped back onto his knees in front of it, hands scrabbling at the rocks. Jim joined almost immediately after, inwardly panicking. How could I let this happen? I should've been there. I should've been able to save him... Damn it! I'm not letting you die, Hikaru!

Suddenly a hand, a gold wrapped hand; Sulu's hand was unearthed. Instantly, McCoy pounced onto the hand, checking it for vitals. More specifically, checking for a heartbeat. Jim unearthed the rest of the his pilot's inert body. Blood soaked the golden command shirt Sulu had been wearing, staining it a deep maroon. It was a heavy reminder of how badly injured the pilot was. As Sulu's entire body came into full view and was gently pulled out of the rubble, McCoy, once more in Chief Medical Officer mode, launched into a series of preliminary albeit basic checks. Damn bastards had taken his tricorder.

Jim waited to one side, giving McCoy the room to work. What if Sulu dies? It would be my fault. I should've kept a better eye on him. I should've...

"Jim!" McCoy said, eyes trying to decipher the reason why the gold clad captain had gone quiet and become detached. "We need ta get outta here. With Sulu injured like this and my damn leg being shot, ya think ya can carry Sulu?" McCoy's accent had thickened as he unconsciously focused less and less on enunciating words and more on helping the injured pilot.

Snapping out of his daze, Jim nodded and moved forward to grab Sulu. Before he picked the man up, Jim turned towards McCoy.

"Sorry, Bones," Jim said. "What should I be careful of?"

"What are ya sorry for, kid? Ya did nothin' wrong. And yeah, careful of his ribs. Got a few crushed by the damn rubble."

"Got it." And with that, Jim somehow, along with the help of McCoy, maneuvered Sulu onto Jim's back, hopefully without further injuring the pilot. But that was unlikely.

Both men moved to stand, the ship continuing to shake ominously. McCoy hissed, clutching his shot left, blood soaking through the hastily done bandages of uniforms he had quickly fashioned in a few brief moments before.

"You good, Bones?"

"I'll have ta be. Let's go. Gotta find the damn hobgoblin."

"Right." Jim nodded grimly, gently shifting Sulu on his back to a more carry-able position. Both conscious men stepped forward, panting and mumbling small curses at the stupid ass ship that they were on. Suddenly, footsteps echoed down the corridor. In a sense of deja vu, metal clangs rippled through the air. There were guards coming. There was no where to hide.


	3. Side 1: Badass Jim (Part 3)

Guards were coming in from the end of the hall. Their footsteps closed in, closer and closer. Jim desperately scanned the area for possible hiding areas. Nothing. With no where to hide, Jim, McCoy, and Sulu were sitting ducks. At any moment, the guards would find them and the three would be toast. Literally. So slowly, ever so slowly the footsteps echoed closer. Suddenly, there was a loud crash, almost another explosion, which sent the entire ship and its contents lurching forward and off kilter. All the ship's passengers were thrown off balance and onto the floor as some parts of the ceiling came barging down, landing in heaps in the hallways.

Jim landed heavily, shielding Sulu from most of the impact with the floor. McCoy hit the floor, quietly groaning as his wounds stung. Almost as soon as it started, the explosive shaking stopped. Both Jim and McCoy struggled to stand, forcing themselves up while still conscious of the fact that guards were just around the corner.

As the guards collected themselves and swung around the corner between them and the three Enterprise crew members, the raised their weapons, looking for intruders. The guards saw nothing, only an empty hallway; so they pressed on, sweeping through the hallway and turning around the next corner, disappearing.

McCoy and Jim both let out a sigh of a breath they never realized they were holding in. As guards had turned onto the hallway they were occupying, both Jim and McCoy had dived for the nearest cover. Luckily for them, the previous explosion, coupled with the constant shaking of the ship had knocked more than a few supports down, causing collapses throughout the ship. Including the hallway that Jim, McCoy and Sulu were in. Currently, both McCoy and Jim had been hiding behind one such collapse, literally being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Albeit, the hard place was a metal ship wall, but that didn't matter. They were safe, for now at least.

Sulu suddenly shifted on Jim's back, groaning as his body protested and hissing as pulled at his wounds.

"Sulu!" Both Jim and McCoy whispered, shock and relief mixed into their respective tones. A few moments passed before Sulu regained full consciousness and was coherent enough to choke out.

"Captain?"

"Hey, Hikaru. Welcome back to the land of the living," Jim joked, smiling warily. McCoy on the other hand, deepened the ever present scowl on his face.

"How ya feelin', Sulu?" McCoy whispered, voice gruff but caring.

"Like I got run over by a group of Klingons and had Mr. Spock's vulcan logic pounded into me."

"Well, at least he's coherent," McCoy said, facing Jim while shrugging. "I don't got my damn tricorder cause those assholes took it, but from what I can tell..." McCoy turned back to Sulu. "Don't be like out Captain here and do something really stupid and make your injuries worse, and you should be fine! Eventually!"

"Booonnness!" Jim whined.

"Shut up."

"Boooonnneeessss."

"I said shut it, you asshat!" McCoy answered.

"Bones."

"What part of shut up, do ya not under-mmff" McCoy stopped speaking, surprised at the blood caked hand suddenly muffling his mouth.

"Bones!" Jim whispered. His bright blue eyes narrowed in warning; Jim was glaring at the hallway. Once again in a sense of deja vu, the sound of footsteps echoed once more throughout the hallway. McCoy immediately understood and stopped moving. Sulu also seemed to notice, having quieted down, albeit still struggling to control his breathing as his wounds stung. The footsteps came and went, and all the while, the ship continued to shake. Eventually the footsteps died and disappeared. McCoy and Jim visibly relaxed.

"Alright, time to find the Spock," Jim said, then turned towards McCoy. "Bones, take Sulu." McCoy nodded, a little confused, but still gingerly took the injured pilot.

Sulu groaned, wincing as his injuries were pulled. He grunted as McCoy shifted him onto his back.

"Sulu, do you know where Spock is?" Jim asked.

"No, not exactly. But I heard the guards take Commander Spock to the right of the room that I was held in."

"Right, time to backtrack. Bones, you gonna be okay carrying Sulu with that leg of yours?" Jim said, turning towards McCoy.

"Damn it Jim, I'm a doctor, not a cripple. Trust me, I'll tell ya when this leg's gonna give," McCoy answered, voice gruff with his southern accent.

"Right. Sorry, Bones," Jim answered. Both men carefully stood from their hiding place of rubble and metal, listening intently for guards. Upon hearing none, they immediately bolted back to where they came from. Thankfully on the way back, the little ragtag group of one shot doctor, one drugged and kind of injured idiotic Captain, along with one incapacitated fencing pilot, ran into no guards. As soon as they came upon the charred mess of a hole leading into the room where Sulu was held, Jim and McCoy immediately banked right, heading down the hallway.

On the way, they came upon a broken staff, a staff that the captors' guards used. It was the same staff that had been used in the capture of Sulu, Spock, McCoy, and Jim. Smirking slightly, Jim leaned down, sweeping the half broken staff off the floor. He spun it around a few times, shadow fighting invisible and most definitely imaginary enemies.

"Perfect."

"Is that why you asked me to take Sulu?" McCoy asked, already half knowing the answer.

"Yeah, someone's gotta be able to protect us," Jim answered. "If I find that those bastards had hurt Spock too, I'm going to raise hell on this ship."

 _If these bastards weren't the ones that had captured us, I actually would've felt bad. Jim's gonna wreck havoc on this place._ McCoy shifted the injured pilot on his back, wincing slightly as his shot leg throbbed.

"Dr. McCoy."

"Fuck!" McCoy started, cursing aloud. "The hell, Sulu?!"

"Sh!"

"What!?"

"Shhhh!" Sulu hushed, looking at their Captain picking his way through the rubble a little ways ahead, broken staff brandished to fight. "Sorry, Dr. McCoy, but I was wondering, has the Captain always been able to use a staff like that? I know he's good with a sword, but a staff?"

"You'd be surprised." Answered McCoy, gruffly shifting Sulu once more, careful not to jostle him too much. Still, even with his best effort, Sulu scrunched his eyes and quietly cursed, wounds protesting against the move. "Sorry."

"Not your fault."

"Right, let's get goin'. At this rate, Jim'll leave us behind," McCoy said.

"Jim would never do that!" Sulu almost shouted.

For a moment, McCoy was stunned at the ferocious defiance, and then couldn't help but feel his heart melt a little on the inside.

"Yeah," McCoy whispered. "Jim would never leave any of us behind."


	4. Side 1: Badass Jim (Part 4)

**A/N: Welp... This is getting longer than expected...**

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Quiet moments passed as the trio picked their way through the rubble towards the direction they were hoping Spock was at. The only sounds were the occasional rumble and crash of the ship, and the somewhat ragged breathing of both McCoy and Sulu. Jim was cautious although things seems silent as of now, for kept the broken staff at ready. McCoy continued to huff and puff across the rubble, his leg throbbing with each step. Sulu seemed to betting heavier and heavier by the second.

"Jim...hah..."

Jim froze, scanned the area with a quick flick of his eyes, and listened carefully for guards. Once he was satisfied that no one was around, he quickly turned back towards McCoy, worry immediately filtering onto his face.

"Bones!"

"Sorry... Jim... hah..." McCoy gasped, cursing inwardly. "Damnit...Jim, I can't..."

"Shit, Bones," Jim said, racing backwards towards the doctor, scrambling over rubble. Jim instantly dropped the broken staff in his hand and gently helped McCoy ease Sulu off of McCoy's back. Sulu's head lolled to the side, body limp in Jim's arms.

"Bones! What the hell happened?!"

"Sorry," McCoy choked out, dropping to his hands and knees, gasping for breath. "Sulu lost consciousness and my leg just ain't gonna go any further."

Jim shook his head, gently laying a hand on McCoy's shoulder. "No, Bones. I got it. Don't worry, I'll take care of everything," Jim whispered, hands gently guiding McCoy to sit down onto a more or less flat piece of rubble. Once he had situated McCoy, Jim shuffled towards his pilot and friend, Sulu. He pulled the pilot into his arms and pressed two fingers to Sulu's neck.

 _Babump... Babump... Thank god his heartbeat is steady._ Jim thought, before quickly assessing Sulu's injuries more thoroughly than before. _Bleeding's definitely been getting worse. He's struggling to breathe, probably broken ribs... Not good. At this rate, he'll die of blood loss... Damnit!_

At this point, Sulu's yellow command shirt, or at least what was left of it, had become soaked in blood. McCoy was near unconsciousness himself, as the pain in the shot leg had only gotten worse. It was more than obvious to Jim that neither man could go on any further.

"Jim..." McCoy croaked.

Instantly, Jim turned towards McCoy, gently maneuvering the unconscious Sulu with him.

"Go find Spock, I've got Sulu..."

Jim bit his lip, looking carefully around the corridor the three men were in. He looked back at the unconscious pilot in his arms, and the nearly unconscious McCoy. Jim cursed.

"Damnit, Bones!" Jim's features settled into a deep rooted scowl, eyes reflecting deep turmoil. But mostly, they reflected deep worry, fear even, for the lives of the two people in front of him. He couldn't leave them, so vulnerable; yet he had to. He had to find all of his crew. He had to get everyone, and by-everyone, he meant _everyone-_ home. "Agghh.." Jim rubbed his hand over his hair, scrubbing ruffly, as if he were trying to clear his mind. "Alright... I'll find Spock, but first," Jim said, picking up Sulu in the process. "I can't leave you guys here. I wouldn't, no... I couldn't leave you here, exposed like this. Ever. I can't leave if you guys were even in the slightest danger. So let's find somewhere safer."

McCoy grunted roughly in acknowledgment, although inwardly, he couldn't help but feel warmth spread in his chest. _Jim truly loves us all._ McCoy winced slightly as he slowly wobbled to his feet, hand still clutching his shot leg. Jim while still carrying Sulu, had begun to carefully make his way through the rubble. McCoy followed, unsteadily teetering and tottering along.

The two men wandered down the hall; although more accurately, one followed painfully and the other lead while carrying an unconscious man in his arms. They heading back towards the torture room, away from the direction Spock was taken to. Upon arriving at the room, both took quick notice of the scorch marks blasting out from the blown-off door. Smoke slowly floated out and small flecks of sparks danced throughout the air. McCoy stopped near the left of the door, leaning heavily against the wall. His face was pale and drawn, though sweat was visible from the pain and physical exertion of moving the shot leg.

Jim ignored both flame and smoke and quickly entered the torture room. Sulu's hand hung limp as Jim gently laid him down onto the charred metal floor near a corner.

"Bones, get in here."

"Jim...hah... Why the fuck are we stopping at the... damn room that I blew up?"

Jim raised an eyebrow, and couldn't help but let out a smirk.

"Since you so kindly blew up this room, no other guards would even think of coming in here," Jim answered, shifting Sulu to a lying down position, while quickly stripping off what was left of his own command shirt. Jim then bundled it up and placed it under Sulu's head. "You guys are the safest here."

McCoy nodded in understanding. He shuffled in and slumped against the wall, too tired to speak. He gestured for Jim to move Sulu towards him. Jim nodded, gingerly manhandling Sulu to be next to the doctor. McCoy reached over and grabbed Jim's hand.

"You better come back to me."

"You know me better than anyone else in the entire universe, Bones. I always come back." Jim smiled reassuringly, slowly pulling his hand from McCoy's. Jim turned away, and made for the gaping metal hole from where the door used to be. As he was about to go though to the other side, Jim turned around one last time and smiled. "Besides, I've died once already. Whose to say I can't come back again?... Anyway, promise, Bones. I'll come back. For you. Always."

And with that, Jim was out the door and back into the hallway. He was now on his own.


	5. Side 1: Badass Jim (Part 5)

**A/N: So sorry for the late post, I've been very busy. Plus I just got sick. Kill me. But anyway, new chapter! Yay! And also be warned. Shitty knowledge on guns is shitty.**

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Jim made his way back to the right of the torture room, snagging the broken staff he had dropped previously as he went. With staff in hand, Jim swung it around experimentally once more. The weights-surprisingly-while broken, were still manageable. Jim smiled grimly, and broke into a dash towards the corridor Sulu had stated was the direction of Spock.

Within moments, Jim had rounded a corner. No guards;a good thing too, so Jim continued on. At the first door he came upon, Jim slowed and pressed an ear to the door. He listened intently, breathe held in a quick attempt to listen in. Three, no wait. Five guards were in the room. Jim smiled once more, took one step from the metal door, and held the staff ready. With an intensity that none of the crew had most likely ever witnessed before, Jim swung his back leg around, roundhouse kicking the metal door down. It hit the floor with an intense clang. Like a storm raging its anger over nature, Jim swept into the room, swinging the staff left and right. The guards stood no change against Jim. In a span of minutes, he had knocked all five guards in the room dead or unconscious.

Once all the guards were down, Jim took stock of his surroundings. The room itself seemed to be some sort of supply room. The dull yellow lights were low and flickered sporadically;crates had been pushed around a small table littered with old fashioned cards and dice. It seemed to Jim that this was some sort gambling or break room. Sweeping his glance closer at the crates, Jim noticed some of the crates with rope tied around them. So he quickly and efficiently unwound all the ropes off the crates.

With rope in hand, Jim went about, around to each and every unconscious guard, quickly tying them up. He ripped pieces of cloth off of their clothes and used it to gag them. Jim then mingled around the room, tossing open the lids to other crates. _Bingo. Got an actual weapon now._ Jim thought, smiling as he pulled a full unbroken staff from a weapons crate. With some further contemplation, Jim did another once over of the other crates. A good thing too, for he had found the jackpot.

A fully loaded, functional, old-fashioned SIG Sauer P226 glowed faintly under the dim light. _Perfect. I'll take this and the other staff._ Jim nodded to himself, tucking the handgun into his pants and dug out a single cartridge. _Twenty shots. Damn, less than I wanted._ A brief scowl flickered onto Jim's face. _Alright, better save it for later then. I'll use the staff first._ And with that, Jim grabbed the full staff and headed back out the door, magazine and P226 strapped to his pants.

He peeked out the door, looking left first, then right. Upon seeing no guards, Jim quickly turned back around and lifted the heavy and most certainly broken metal door off the floor. He slipped it back into the frame, stepped back and looked at his handiwork. At a distance, nothing seemed wrong, and the door looked okay. Even if looked at closely, the door only looked a little dented. With any luck, no one would notice.

And so, Jim went door to door of the ones that he encountered. One by one, he knocked guards, killing them when he had no other choice, and continued searching for Spock. Jim knew, time was not on his side, and it was starting to run out. McCoy and Sulu especially wouldn't last much longer now. Spock could be being tortured at this very moment. Jim froze at that thought. _I have to hurry._

Jim was about to walk past another door on the right, annoyed at how many doors there were, how little time he had, and how many times he had to knock guards out. At this point, Jim didn't even want to go through the door, but something was amiss. Something about this door made him freeze. Call it luck, or plain devil's intuition, but this door was different. So, Jim pressed an ear to the door and listened.

And listened.

Suddenly, a muffled yelp and a growl came from the door. It was the guards. Their brutish language rough and unrefined. Amidst the sounds, Jim heard something different. it curiously reminded him of something. He couldn't pinpoint it, but it was very familiar. In the brief moment of contemplation, Jim suddenly shivered, a chill running down his spine. He recognized the sound. _Spock!_

Upon realization, Jim knew why the sound was so familiar. It was the same anger filled rage that Spock had expressed when he as emotionally compromised a few years ago. This was the downright fury of a powerful, intelligent Vulcan, succumbing to anger. It filled Jim with a sense of dread, a sense of fear. Spock was fighting on the other side of this door.

After only a brief moment of contemplation, Jim's surging protectiveness for his crew, his first commander surged to a peak. Jim swung the staff around and slammed down the door. One moment he was standing, the next? Only the slightest whisps of consciousness leaving him. All Jim saw before everything went black, was a powerful flash of blue.

* * *

"Captain..."

 _There's a voice... who... who? Someone... I know?.. Someone..?_

"Captain?"

 _Familiar.. something.. familiar?... Spock?_

"Jim. Wake up."

A brief moment. Suddenly bright blue eyes snapped open.

"SPOCK!" Jim gasped, sitting up suddenly. The world spun dizzily and every muscle and joint screamed protests. Jim's head pounded even worse than before, klingons seeming to have taken up residents inside his skull. Everything ached, everything hurt.

"Captain, are you well?"

"Huh...?" Jim squinted, looking around for the source of the voice. A few moments passed, a blue blob came into view. Jim realized who it was. "Oh... Hey, Spock!" Was all he said, and then promptly had his eyes roll backwards. His body fell limp to the floor.


	6. Side 1: Badass Jim (Part 6)

**A/N: Hello again! Sorry for such late posts! This is getting harder... T^T** **But that's okay cause I'll finish this! Definitely!**

 **On that note, enjoy the new chapter!**

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"Captain."A familiar voice echoed. A sense of deja vu emanated from Jim's chest.

 _This voice... I know this.. voice... Who...? Someone.. someone..._

A few moments passed, and there was a touch on Jim's shoulder. A familiar touch.

"Spock!" Jim exclaimed suddenly, eyes having snapped open. The almost nostalgic face of the stoic Vulcan seemed to bring relief into Jim's features.

"Captain, I have discerned that you are injured, as you have awoken previously only to fall back into the state of unconsciousness once more," Spock said. "Are you aware of your surroundings now?"

Jim frowned, eyes looking around with obvious confusion on his face. "What happened..?"

Spock almost smiled, as he raised the usual eyebrow and watched as Jim scrambled up, shakily getting to his feet. Spock reached a hand over and uncharacteristically placed it near Jim's elbow, steadying the captain. Jim swept another confused glance around the room.

The room that the two Starfleet officers were in was littered with dead guards. Spock, after a brief once-over by Jim, seemed unharmed. Except for a small cut running up Spock's right arm, it looked like he had practically taken out all the guards. And in the process, Spock had also knocked out Jim, having mistaken him for a guard bringing reinforcements.

"Captain, forgive my impudence in attacking you. I had not realized who you were until I had, I believe in human terms it would be, 'knocked you out'." Spock's monotone voice echoed, although minor tones of actual, tangible worry were present. If not just barely there.

"Nah," Jim answered hoarsely, shaking his head slowly. "S'alright, I'm fine." Jim unsteadily looked around one more time. He took a step forward; something changed as he kicked an item. He looked down, scowling at the floor, before his eyes lit up at the sight of the staff. He leaned own, almost tripping over himself, and fumbled for the foreign object briefly. Jim patted his pants for the gun, and then staggered back towards the door.

"Captain, there is a 73.732% chance that more guards are on their way now. I can only presume that you already possess a plan?" Spock raised the same accursed eyebrow once more.

Jim turned around from just outside the door and smiled lopsidedly, leaning against the door frame. It occurred to Spock that somewhere in the back corners of the human side of him had realized, that had the pair been in another place and in another time, what Jim just did could have been considered 'appealing'.

"Yeah, I do. Get Bones and Sulu, and get the hell outta here." Jim turned back around and then froze. He hefted the staff in his hands slowly, contemplating something. And then, he tossed the staff up and into the air, over his back. "Here, catch."Spock's reflexes easily snatched the weapon from the air.

Jim spoke again. "Use that, I've scavenged a gun." He pulled out the P226 out of the back of his pants. Spock quickly tested the weights of the staff before following Jim through the door.

Both Captain an First Officer surreptitiously slinked down the hallways leading back to the doctor and pilot. Jim, with the P226 in hand, kept a finger ready on the trigger, prepared to shoot at a moments notice. Spock followed behind, staff held ready. Both men could feel the tension in the air. With the ship trembling constantly and explosions sounding off in deft places, the pair had luckily yet to run into any guards. Thank Lady Luck for that.

Halfway back, Jim suddenly paused midstep. Spock having picked up on the silent cue, listened intently.

After a brief moment of silence, the stomping of guards filtered into the hallway. Guttural chanting exposing the language of the captors was faint but understandable. Spock had easily picked up on the sound, but he raised the typical eyebrow in questioning.

"Captain, you seemed to have acknowledged the guards before I have. Within normal parameters of human hearing, you shouldn't have been able to distinguish the guards. It is most illogical. How is it possible that you are able to hear the guards?" Spock questioned quietly.

Jim flicked a glance at the Vulcan, before suddenly throwing himself around the corner.

"Jim!" Spock called, a momentary expression of shock having found its way onto his face. Though he would never admit it, Spock 'rushed' around the corner, worried for his friend and Captain. Around the corner, the sight before Spock was one of an illogical kind. Dead bodies littered the floor. Jim was no where in sight. The Captain was gone.

"Jim!" Spock called one more time. After a brief period of intent listening, Spock could hear muffled grunts coming from down the hallway. Preparing himself, Spock quickly launched down the hallway, pace fast and deliberate. Almost as soon as he had crossed the hallway, the muffled grunts had disappeared and the quiet sound of a clicking gun could be heard. Spock, curiosity piqued, peeked around the corner of the next hall.

Jim stood there, over a pile of inert bodies, eyes covered, and painted with blood splatter. Bodies of a multitude of guards littered the floor. Most were shot cleanly through the eyes, bodies haven fallen at awkward angles. Others were shot expertly into a leg, shoulder, or just far away enough from the heart so that the guard would survive. Jim was frozen, gun limp in his right hand and body slumped forward. Spock dared not to move, having calculated that the best course of action would be to remain still, as to not startle the Captain.

Suddenly, Jim breathed in, a deep filling breath. He lifted his left hand, ran it through his hair, and quietly stepped off of the mound of bodies. Jim looked up towards the ceiling, eyes scrunched in pain. Quietly, he went around to all the dead guards, almost gently closing their eyes. He left the unconscious guards alone, except for the ones that were shot near the heart. For them, Jim quietly pulled another less injured unconscious guard over, and piled it on top of bleeding one. He did so as if it were a last ditch effort to staunch the bleeding. Then, he bowed his head.

Jim crouched their silently for a moment, before standing up, squaring his shoulders and turning back around.

Spock moved.

Jim instantly reacted, sweeping the gun around and firing almost immediately.

Too late, Spock was already in the line of fire.


	7. Side 1: Badass Jim (Part 7)

**Hey new chapter! Yay! Alrighty then, this one was a fun one to think up. Have fun reading!**

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Time seemed to flow in slow motion. Spock would later declare that his brain faculties were compromised temporarily, but in the moment that both the Captain and First Officer had made eye contact, the shot had already been fired. Spock watched, as time seemed to slow, Jim's face go from cold calculating murder, to pure shock, and then horror at the current event. Jim's mouth seemed to open and close as alarm claimed his facial features. Logically, it was very strange. Spock couldn't hear anything but a loud constant tone in his ear. The scenery seemed to change as Spock blinked owlishly. One moment, Jim was in front of him, standing on a pile of inert bodies; the next moment, Jim was standing in front of him, eyebrows crinkled in a deep scowl of worry. But wait a moment, why was Jim looking down? And was that the ceiling straight above? Spock's eyebrows contracted in uncharacteristic confusion. Jim had obviously noticed something as his mouth was suddenly moving frantically. But still, Spock heard none of what was being said. Jim's hand was moving along Spock's chest, though Spock would barely feel it them. Those hands moved in slow motion as they pressed down. Black clouded Spock's vision. _What was happening? An emergency? Had the faculties of the enemy ship been compromised?_ Spock's mind wandered only for a brief period before his eyes closed and he saw nothing more.

Jim froze when he saw Spock go slack. He would alter be even more grateful that Spock was Vulcan. When Jim swung around and shot the moving person, thinking it was a guard, his brain practically targeted on autopilot. He had not truly seen who it was on the other end of the barrel until the bullet had already been fired. At that moment, time seemed to stop for Jim and his heart froze in its place. Then all at once, his senses shut down. He couldn't hear, he couldn't see, nothing was working. But then, his sense were in overdrive.

Adrenaline kicked in and every nerve, every fiber of his being was blaring the red alert klaxon. Jim leaped from the pile of inert guards and neatly landed on the bronze metal floor. He flew through air, almost instantly by Spock's side.

"Spock!" Jim called, mouth moving in hope that comprehension would flicker into those knowing Vulcan eyes. Jim waited. None came. The only answer was some sort of crinkled eyebrow-like frown. It was something so strange to see, that even the current state of affairs couldn't keep Jim from briefly giggling only if ever so slightly. But almost immediately afterwords, Jim was back to panicking inwardly. He had just shot Spock, and the Vulcan was obviously indisposed as the crinkling of eyebrows is practically nonexistent.

Jim passed a hand over the wound, oozing green blood. It would've been an almost instant kill had Spock been fully human. Thankfully, Spock possessed the physical body and mind of a Vulcan despite being half human. Hence although the wound was most definitely dangerous if not treated, it would not kill him immediately. Though it could, soon enough.

Jim froze and thought briefly for a moment. Almost instantly, he came to understand what must be done. With uncharacteristic, almost inhuman strength, he hoisted Spock up and onto his back. He then proceeded back down the hallway he came from. Left, right, Jim's mind barely registered the actual direction of movement. Jim was moving be sheer instinct and intellect alone; he had memorized the path the first time he and McCoy had entered it, looking for Sulu.

The rumbling and shaking ship creaked as Jim scrambled to bring Spock to McCoy. He could feel the blood, the vibrant green blood, slowly slicking up his back. Spock would bleed out at this rate. Jim could hear Spock's faint breath, thunderous in his ears. It was slowly falling away. _This isn't good... Damn it!_

Step after step, the walls passed. Even Jim, who could run almost indefinitely, forever moving forward on only sheer will power, was starting to falter. The drugs that the captors' had pumped into Jim were finally showing side effects. With his head starting to pound more and muscles starting to falter, Jim was feeling the dread creep up to him. _Will I make? Shit, if Spock.. Because of me... Fuck this!_

Jim put in another burst of speed, racing down the hall. He could feel it, McCoy and Sulu were close. As Jim neared the final corner, the sound of a loud heavily accented southern voice echoed about, furiously cursing. The sound of staffs echoed. Jim, having stopped moving at the found of fighting, now sprung into action. He slowly lowered the unconscious Spock onto the floor, gently propping the Vulcan against the wall. Jim pulled the P226 out from the waist of his starfleet issue uniform, and pulled the safety off. Taking a quiet deep breath, he swung around the corner.

Sulu was hacking and slashing at the mass of guards, having picked up one of the swords mixed in with staffs. McCoy was still behind the blown up door, tossing rubble and pieced of the ship at guards that got too close. At this point, both Sulu and McCoy were running out of energy and ammunition. Sulu's injuries were starting to bleed again as new injuries popped up from the the guards. The guards were closing in, Sulu slipped and crashed to the ground. Guards had gone around and easily surprised McCoy, easily capturing the doctor. Both struggled valiantly, but with battered and exhausted bodies, the two were starting to lose hope. One of the guards had come forward. It picked up the sword Sulu dropped onto the floor. The guards hefted the blade, and then turned towards the two Enterprise crew members. It lifted the blade and had swung down, beginning the deadly arc. Sulu and McCoy had closed their eyes, waiting for the blow. It never came. The guards merely fell backwards and hit the ground. Sulu and McCoy opened their eyes and shock flooded those eyes. Awe and horror graced their features. Sulu had never seen such a display like this. Even McCoy, dubbed 'Bones' by Jim, had never seen anything like this.

This wasn't a skill. This was a talent. A talent to kill.

Guards were dropping like flies, one after the other, in quick rapid fire succession. The guards in a panic, were unable to figure out where and who the enemy was. They broke formation and scrambled around the hallway, paying little attention now to the two prone figures on the floor. There was someone out there killing their comrades. The enemy that was killing was of more importance. The guards fanned out, noticing offhandedly that there was a brief respite. The death had stopped; as did everything else. No one dared to move. Sulu and McCoy could only search with their eyes, frantically trying to figure out was shooting, whether it was an ally or enemy.

A gun suddenly flew out from around the nearby corner. It clattered to the floor, the sound ringing clearly, harshly, throughout the hallways. The guards shifted all their attention at the offending piece of destruction. Suddenly, a figure, almost undefinable, flew around the corner. It took out the nearest guard, and proceeded to kill it. The body fell backwards, the new figure, enemy or ally, McCoy and Sulu did not know. The figure raised his head. Eyes pierced the destruction and death, a cold, calculating gray; eyes full of death, eyes that had seen too much. Sulu couldn't recognize those eyes. Only McCoy. Only McCoy recognized those eyes. Those were the eyes of James Tiberius Kirk.


	8. Side 1: Badass Jim (Part 8)

**Hi everyone! Sorry about the extremely long wait, I've been busy with school, but here's the new chapter! I made it slightly longer than the past few have been so I hope you like it? :)**

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The guards made the first move. They reacted towards the death of their comrades and at the offending killer. The guards scrambled into formation, and raced towards the previously yellow clad captain. With no guards left to hold them down, Sulu and McCoy struggled to their feet; their energy renewed upon the sight of their close friend and captain. But it would seem that the captain required no assistance from his subordinates. As Sulu and McCoy were staggering to their feet, the captain had jumped onto to the nearest guard, snatching the staff it held in its hands in the process, and then slammed the very same staff into an oncoming guard. The captain then proceeded to twist the neck of the guard he had jumped on, then flipped off and back onto the floor. He swung the staff around expertly, destroying the guards, killing most. The ones that did survive attempted to crawl away. It was a spectacular spectacle as the captain leaped from one guard to the next, taking them down with a mere flick of the wrist. It was as if he were dancing a dangerous dance of death and carnage, with his staff twirling about as it was.

After only a brief period of time, all the guards were either dead or unconscious, leaving only the captain standing in the wreckage of it all.

Sulu and McCoy could only stare in utter awe, at the speed, grace, and destructive power of the their captain. McCoy had seen Jim do many things in their time together, but this, this was something completely different. Even Spock, who had regained consciousness and had staggered uncharacteristically around the corner upon hearing the sound of battle, was showing open shock. Even if that 'open shock' was a measly two eyebrows raised.

The captain did not move. He remained still, breathing heavily, before spinning his staff around, neatly tucking it under his arm and behind his back. He slowly looked up, eyes weeping around to pierce their gaze into McCoy, Sulu, and Spock. McCoy, finely tuned to Jim's inner workings, could feel in his heart that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Sulu limped forward, as if he wanted to hug the captain; a smile of thanks wide upon his face. Spock moved forward as well, a question dancing upon his lips.

"Stop!" McCoy hissed, hands reaching for both the pilot and first officer. They froze, as if stuck by something. Sulu turned around, followed by Spock and threw a confused glance at the doctor. McCoy furiously grabbed the two in front of him and dragged them far, far away form the captain. "Don't provoke him..." McCoy whispered now, eyeing the dull gray eyes across the room. "That ain't Jim."

"Doctor, that is indeed our Captain, James Tiberius Kirk. Are you perhaps implying that, that person over there is not the Captain?" Spock questioned, the usual eyebrow perked in questioning. Sulu merely frowned, obvious confusion filtering onto his face.

"No... that's..." McCoy grumbled. "Ugh. What I mean is that that side over there is ain't the Jim we know. He ain't Jim." McCoy said, peering warily at the gray eyed figure across the hall. He turned towards the first officer and helmsman. McCoy breathed in warily, running a deft hand through his already messy battle worn hair. "I've only ever seen that side of Jim once. It's what I've come to know as the side of Jim that's extremely dangerous. That man over there's J.T. He's a ruthless leader and he won't hesitate to kill anything and everything that he deems as an enemy. And at this point, we're all enemies. J.T. will kill us, Jim wouldn't." McCoy whispered, having carefully and quietly moved the group of three away from J.T.

"So are you saying that the captain is going to kill us?" Sulu exclaimed. McCoy sighed, turmoil obvious on his features.

"Yes. No.. Probably. Unless we can find some way for J.T. To recognize us as a frie-"

Crash! The sound of a staff slamming to the metal floor startled the three starfleet officers. McCoy, Sulu, and Spock jolted slightly at the sudden intrusion of the foreign sound. They peaked around the corner, peering at the figure that had just jumped off the mound of dead guards. J.T. looked up, eyes a hard sleet of gray. He glared suspiciously at the three pairs of eyes staring at him. J.T. narrowed his eyes menacingly, the cold sleet piercing the very souls of McCoy, Sulu, and Spock. The three men froze upon eye contact.

Suddenly more guards stampeded onto the scene, guns blazing. Bad mistake. In a blink of an eye, J.T. had disappeared. the guards never saw it coming. He had turned into thin air, only briefly reappearing every now and then. One blink of an eye, he was to the left, another and he was to the right. The guards dropped to the floor one after another, no one stood a chance against J.T.

By the time the last guard had faded from life, Sulu was too shocked to move. Horror stuck to face, body frozen solidly. Spock at this point had been overloaded with too much new data on this "J.T." figure. Spock couldn't seem to comprehend fast enough how such a character existed soundly alongside with the life-loving, kind Jim that everyone had come to know. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Nothing. Yet, there stood Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy. Alone.

The man who had just said J.T. would kill anyone in his path, had just took the first step towards J.T. In response, J.T. swung around, eyes glaring suspiciously like a cornered animal towards the doctor that was approaching. McCoy lifted a hand, hoping to calm the gray-eyed man before him. Unfortunately that didn't give the desire effect. J.T. dashed forward, staff swinging to maim and kill. McCoy's eyes widened. Sulu and Spock snapped out of their daze, only to see J.T. going for the kill.

"Doctor!"

"Doctor McCoy!"

The blow never landed. J.T. had stopped. Like and unmoving statue, he stood there, arm still raised to kill, nostrils flaring, pupils dilating. Yet a look of confusion was clearly expressed with the crinkled eyebrows and flickering eyes. Blue. Gray. Blue, then gray. Back and forth, the two colors shifted endlessly. No one dared to move, that is, until McCoy stepped forward to close the distance between him and J.T. His eyes gently, McCoy pressed his hand against J.T.'s cheek. Suddenly, the endless shift froze and blue overtook the gray and J.T. sagged. McCoy gently caught the prone figure.

Sulu and Spock started, rushing forward from behind the corner. Well Sulu did, Spock limped towards the the doctor, hand covering his injury. The two met the doctor midway, concern and worry bubbling over for the limp figure cradled in McCoy's lap. McCoy caressed the captain's cheek, before running his hands over the body in front of him, checking for injuries. Almost immediately, McCoy frowned, cataloging severe and certainly dangerous injuries covering all of the captain's torso and limbs. Quietly, the captain groaned and his eyes fluttered open.

"Doctor McCoy..." Sulu whispered, "Is it safe?"

A moment passed, McCoy remained silent. Then a hoarse whisper filtered through the rumbling of the ship collapsing on itself.

"Bone...s...?"

McCoy released a sigh of relief and gently tapped the captain on the forehead.

"Idiot," He whispered. "You let [him] out."

Jim winced, and lifted a heavy hand to cover his face.

"Fuck."

"Yup." McCoy answered, chuckling slightly. "But don't worry, yah didn't hurt none of us."

Jim sighed reflexively. "Thank god... I don't know what I would've done if I had hurt you guys..." Jim grunted once more, wincing as he struggled to get up.

"Woah there, Jim! You're hurt yah asshole! Only you would manage to someone how fuck yourself up on a god forsaken random evil alien spaceship!"

"Aww, Bones~!" Jim whined, successfully managing to stumble to a standing position. "I gotta get us outta here first." Jim then quickly glanced around, taking quick note of Sulu and Spock. "Sulu! Spock!" Jim exclaimed, quickly pulling McCoy to his feet.

"Shut up, damn it! Jim we're still stuck on this flying hunk of metal. On an enemy ship too!"

"Bones, be quiet. I need you to check Spock." Jim quickly threw the doctor in the direction towards where Spock was standing.

"What.." McCoy grunted, glaring at Jim.

"Please, Bones." Jim replied.

"Hmph!" McCoy 'harumphed' before quickly assessing the Vulcan. Expertly, McCoy with the somewhat reluctant cooperation of Spock, had stifled the bleeding and bandaged the wound with what was remaining of Spock's shirt. Suddenly, Jim burst out into a terrific laughter.

"What." McCoy sighed.

"Bones it looks like we're all about to bang! Sulu, Spock and I are all shirtless! you're the only one with a shirt on right now!" Jim roared with laughter, collapsing into a giggling heaving mess on the floor. Sulu seemed to have come to the same conclusion and started giggling with the captain. Spock on the other hand, seemed to have missed the innuendo completely.

"Captain, in the human language, the term 'bang' is used to describe a loud sound usually emitted from a weapon or explosion. Therefore I find the my understanding to your words of 'we're all about to bang' to be unclear. Please explain." Spock said, voice unchanging yet still exuding interest at the same time.

"Well~... Banging is another way to say-" Jim continued.

"Shut up. Ya'll are some fucking disgusting pieces of shit." McCoy interjected, then continued to grumble. "I'm a doctor, damn it, not a toy."


End file.
